Inclusions

by Emily Duvall

  Then he met Melanie. Right away he knew he wanted her to have this stone someday. They’d gone their separate ways and the sapphire remained. He was a businessman with a sentimental secret. He couldn’t give it up. Luke returned the stone to the vault. To hell with all of the reasons for holding back from Melanie. He could have what he wanted, without the emotions. They could be lovers without the attachment. She could think him guilty and he could be physically satisfied.

  Chapter 21

  The morning brought a sky of gray clouds and drizzly rain. Melanie got up earlier than usual. She awakened feeling rested. The bottom of her foot hurt no more than a deep scratch. She sat up, unwound the bandage, and checked the small, uneven line of sutures. The first hurdle of the morning would be the shower and mastering not getting her foot wet. The second hurdle would be figuring out how to be around Luke.

  The water made everything worse and she slipped in the shower, catching herself on one of the clear bars in the bath with her foot sticking up and out, away from the shower spray. The stitches ripped open and she cried out and laughed at the same moment, much like hitting her funny bone. The pain in the affected area subsided as her hair became drenched and water turned pink from the blood oozing out of the cut. She turned off the water, got herself out of the tub, dried off the skin, and rewrapped the cut.

  Once dressed, she shuffled out to the hall and found Luke leaving his bedroom at the same time. “Good morning,” her voice faded the instant she could see his face. A red-blue bruise amplified his right eye, spread to the top of his jaw, and reached his ear. “What happened to your face?”

  “Bar fight,” he explained and added with a wolfish grin, “and you actually seem worried about me.”

  “I’m not.” She shifted her weight onto her good leg. Did he care that she worried about him? Better to avoid the topic entirely. She straightened and answered, “You got into a bar fight. How noble. You defended some girl’s honor.”

  “Maybe.”

  Melanie looked at his bedroom with scrutiny, as if expecting to see another woman standing in his doorway. Much to her relief, she saw no one. There could have been another woman in the bar last night and her phone number could be in the pocket of Luke’s pants as they spoke. She glanced to his pocket.

  He followed her gaze. “Is there something of interest to you?”

  She snapped her gaze to meet his. Charged anticipation jolted through her. “Nope.”

  A wry frown spread across his lips. “We’ll have to see about that.”

  She folded her arms over her chest, all too aware of the proximity of his body and his heavy-lidded gaze. Melanie reached out and put her hand on his arm. Luke’s greedy, wicked gaze didn’t bend. Melanie’s gaze swept over his indulgent grin. She took a step forward.

  Luke moved faster. In one long step he grabbed Melanie’s face. His mouth came crashing down on hers. Melanie started to stumble backwards and stopped. Luke kissed her with such possessive intent that she struggled to keep up with the demands of his mouth. Her tongue wrapped around his as he shifted the kiss to deeper territory. She didn’t want to fight the kiss. She didn’t want to fight him. Luke’s hands glided down her sides and brushed over her breasts. His hands moved lower and rounded over her bottom. He took what he could in his hands and squeezed her flesh; he lifted up her rear and pushed her against him so she could feel his swollen manhood.

  Aware of their location, standing in the hallway, Melanie started to break away. “Don’t,” Luke commanded. With one fell swoop he picked her up and carried her over to his bedroom. He opened the door, kicked it closed with his foot, and placed her on the unmade bed.

  She waited on her back amongst the rumpled sheets and strewn bedcover with her shoulders and knees up. Her hair swept down her back. She stared up at him. The curtains remained closed and only a hint of light seeped through the crack in the curtains. She watched Luke take off his clothes. The evidence of what she did to his strong, naked body standing before her. Unashamed of his enlarged member, she rode her gaze up his body. The muscles in his chest covered by a smattering of hair beckoned for her to touch. She forgot to breathe. All of the power in the room she held, knowing the response her body could get out of his. Luke put his hands on her ankles and slid them down, over the sides of her feet.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, pausing at the foot with the cut.

  “You won’t,” she responded, eager to have his mouth on her body and his hands all over her.

  Luke undressed her. He undid in a few seconds what had taken her an hour to do. The clothes he took off her fell to the floor unceremoniously. He slid his hands up her legs, over her womanhood, and paused there, pressing his hand against her. His hands moved away and up, over her stomach and up to her breasts. He spread his fingers over her breasts and parted her legs with his knee. He came towards her and as his mouth closed around her nipple, she took in the sight of his broad and strong shoulders, creased with the definition of muscles. The arousal she’d set off rubbed against her. Melanie watched and let go. She wanted to see him. She didn’t want to hide.

  The swift reaction she felt engulfed her thoughts and dragged her mind to another planet. Luke’s tongue teased her nipple. The temperature of her skin swelled at his mouth working over her breast. He paused for a moment to invade her mouth. His tongue sifted around her mouth. Sweat clung to their lips and to their skin. Melanie’s chest stuck to his. Intensity ripped through her mid-section and dampness spread between her legs. Luke reached down and slid his hands under her bottom. He grabbed on and squeezed her hard up to him. The hardness of his impressive manhood swiped the gap between her legs. She moaned in anticipation. His kiss tore at her lips with forceful, voracious movement. The sharp inhale of his aftershave blasted euphoria down her muscles. A bead of sweat hit her neck. She reveled in his strong body hot over top hers.

  Melanie gripped his shoulders and kissed him back. Her tongue controlled his; her legs wrapped around his waist, rousing the core of her womanhood. The bones and muscle and blood beneath her skin throbbed with crazy need. This is everything she wanted. Right here. Right now. “Melanie,” she heard him whisper her name.

  Luke’s lips trailed down her neck and her shoulders. He kissed the right one and then the left one. He groped her thighs. His lips grazed her breasts. Melanie spread her legs out a little wider and welcomed his fingers, adeptly touching her most private area. His touch scorched her skin and he moved his fingers everywhere without favoring any one part. He cupped her bare butt and spread his hands open, his thumbs touching the tuft of hair between her legs and the rest of his fingers nestled on her inner thighs. She arched her back, pushing her chest forward, and opened up for him. Hands locked behind his head and her shoulder blades dug into his chest. His incredible shaft rammed up against her lower back and she pushed her chest forward even further.

  Tough and determined fingers swept over the creases between her legs. The intentional touch ran up and down the dampness between her thighs. He came back again, harder and faster and breached her opening. The breath in her chest imploded. She twisted around. Luke’s fingers followed her lead. She rummaged his hair with her hands, pushing her lips onto his, slipping her tongue inside his mouth and let her lips contour to his. Her body, gloriously naked and exposed, slid over his bulky erection. Her body felt like silk against him.

  Luke’s hand returned to her private part with more force and the other held down her leg. He stroked the nub, brought everything about its power to life. He touched her there and she climbed up, breathless and foggy with the sinful pleasure of loving his touch too much. Pleasure blasted through her. It consumed her body. The movements of his finger quickened. He slipped a finger inside her. The erotic march of his finger heightened her sensitive area. His finger returned to her nub and the pressure rocked her desire. The tiniest wrong movement and she would lose everything that swelled inside of her. His shaft rubbed against her with deliberate, greedy movement.

  S
he kept her gaze on his, even when her eyelids threatened to close, she watched his gaze grow dense, like he too was somewhere else for a moment. More pressure on his fingers and he elevated her up, her rear ready to leap off the ground and the rest of her body fizzling, reeling, sitting on the edge and ready to soar. Melanie turned and straddled him.

  He entered her and she leaned forward. Her nipples hung over his mouth; and an uneven grin set on his lips. Luke’s body moved with hers. His hardness filled her up and ran along the ridge of her own arousal, pushing and drawing out the pleasure with each movement. His hands settled on her waist, keeping her tight and close to his body. She lowered her body so her breasts slopped up and down his chest. She experienced all of him: the sweat, the hair, the grain of sand lost on a lean body. The pressure of his manhood inside her built and built until she cried out for him to finish her off.

  Luke uncurled his hands from her waist and took her breasts in his hands, pushing them and teasing the nipples with his unsmooth fingers. She rounded her seat over him, faced the sky, and let her mouth open at the rush of hot liquid pouring out of his body and mixing with the unleashing of explosions rocking her body. She held on, riding him in jagged, selfish movements. She couldn’t see straight; she heard nothing. Her body felt only his. Melanie’s head tilted back and her eyes closed. She rode the release, once, twice, more times than she could count. She felt him release inside her and their bodies kept moving, kept riding, and kept going until she had nothing left inside to give. Luke’s movements built and climbed until he rammed one last perfect time inside of her. She gripped his chest with all her strength, arched her back, and soared.

  Slack-bodied and fulfilled, Melanie rolled off him, naked and unashamed, and lay next to him in the twisted sheets. The rise and fall of their erratic breath filled her ears. The sticky warmth of their love-making stayed on her skin and the sweet air masked their syrupy scent. The noise of the house resumed, or maybe she’d blocked out all the other voices and sounds going on. The beats of their hearts slowed to normal. Luke put his arm underneath her head. To lie in this moment without time or schedules or demands would be bliss.

  Melanie started to sit. Luke put a hand on her back. “We don’t have to go downstairs this second.”

  Melanie wished she could turn off the voice in her head trying to think ten steps ahead of her heart. They would have to go out of this room soon. Luke tugged her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his lips on her shoulder. She felt every inch of him. They lay there quiet and contented and she gave in to having fallen for him completely, newly, wholly, all over again.

  “I want to see you again,” he said.

  What a fantastic morning this was turning out to be. “Tonight,” she said.

  Luke lowered his lips to hers. A slightest graze of air passed through over her lips. “I want you like this every morning, in my bed.”

  “I want to be with you every morning,” she commented and nuzzled against his wide chest.

  Melanie stayed in his bed for a moment longer. She watched his back as he moved to the bathroom. The defined muscles on his back stretched down to a long torso and his lean, bare buttocks. He was a beautiful specimen.

  Their lovemaking stayed with Melanie after she’d taken her second shower of the morning. She walked downstairs with pride moving through her. She walked through the kitchen door, later than she had every other morning.

  Latonya’s stern face and arched eyebrow met Melanie’s eyes. “Good-morning,” she said, trying to remain casual.

  “You’re up late,” she said, fully charged. Latonya’s gaze darted to Melanie’s foot. “Your foot looks fine to me.”

  “She is fine,” Stevie balked from the table. “She has a little scratch.”

  “Where’s Kendra?” Melanie asked, skipping the topic altogether. The intimacy of the morning trundled through her stomach. It’s all she could think about.

  “Kendra’s at Felicity’s hotel. The bride has officially arrived and this wedding is going ahead full-steam.”

  Melanie took a seat at the table. The sight of a Sippy cup sitting in front of Vivian gave her an inward smile. Change is sometimes best taken in small doses. “Such a big girl,” she said.

  Stevie took a small bottle of cinnamon and sprinkled the spice on her oatmeal. “The wedding is going to be the event of the island. Everyone’s talking about Damon and Felicity.”

  Vivian picked up her plate of scrambled eggs, hung it in a vertical hold and ceremoniously dumped the food on the floor. “Ba!” she screamed to Melanie. “Bababa.”

  “I didn’t know they were well known.”

  “Luke is well known and Felicity Banks comes from a family orbiting in the upper echelon of Chicago society. Half of Damon’s law firm owns houses or condos on one of these Hawaiian Islands. The Harrison name’s known and respected and Damon’s smart. He wouldn’t ask anyone less than perfect to become his family.” Stevie turned to Melanie. “Is Goldie still coming over to seduce…I mean…bring her daughters over for a playdate?”

  “She’s coming over.” Melanie glanced at the clock on the wall. “The motives she has for coming over are not my business.”

  “Keep the playdate confined to the playroom. I don’t want her prowling around the house waiting for opportunities to pounce on Luke.”

  “Good morning ladies,” Luke said, striding into the kitchen. “I don’t know if I told you, Stevie, that Brent has asked Goldie to be his date for the wedding.”

  Stevie’s hand flopped over her heart. “Don’t scare me.”

  “I speak the truth.” Luke enjoyed teasing her. “She might be Brent’s wife someday.”

  “My heart suddenly doesn’t feel well.” She bent over the table.

  The topic of Goldie and Brent outweighed the intimate moment. Luke glanced at Melanie with the same shared secret of their morning. “I thought we’d let the girls play in the playroom and if the rain holds, we can take them for a walk or get out a soccer ball. I noticed there are some bikes that haven’t been put together in the closet. I’ll get those assembled this afternoon.”

  “You can take the lead on the bikes.” Stevie unstrapped Vivian out of the booster seat and wiped down her hands and face. “I won’t pretend to be of much help with those.”

  Luke occupied the spot next to the coffee maker and Melanie had no choice other than to stand close to him to refill her coffee. Their arms touched and she could smell the caffeine from his mug and the soap on his skin. It made pouring the coffee a distracted task. How would she ever get through the morning? He reached over her, grabbed one of the spoons sticking out of a cup, and whispered, “You make me hard.”

  A heat wave rushed up Melanie’s cheeks. She could feel everyone else in the kitchen staring down the back of her neck. “I hope you slept well,” she answered, to avoid any speculation if people were listening, which, knowing Stevie and Latonya, they were. She held her breath until Luke walked away.

  “The cocktail party’s at seven o’clock tonight,” Latonya called out after Luke.

  “Kendra won’t let me forget.” He walked over to Vivian and kissed her on the forehead, talked to her for a moment, though she said nothing back, and left the women to process the news of Goldie and Brent attending the wedding together.

  The kitchen gossip bored Melanie compared to what had gone on in Luke’s bedroom earlier and she withdrew from the conversation and left the kitchen. She decided to start assembling the bikes. A task requiring physical and mental concentration would get her mind off of Luke.

  She had her work cut out for her. There wouldn’t be time to finish putting together one tricycle, a scooter, two plastic play bikes, and a play car with a roof and wheels. The closet in the playroom also held toddler-size roller skates, unopened. Helmets in three different sizes, also unopened and a basketball hoop for kids. A tool box on the top shelf gave her the supplies she needed to start and she picked out the tricycle and one of the play bikes. Gross motor coordination li
ke peddling a bike would help develop Vivian’s leg muscles and help her build other skills and Melanie chose the tricycle to put together first.

  Melanie got to work, taking out instructions, ripping open the bags of screws and parts, working on what she could before Goldie arrived. A half-hour after her planned playdate time, Goldie arrived, along with Kari and Alyssa, parading in whines all the way to the playroom. “Hello,” Goldie said in a high-pitched voice. “My girls and I got sidetracked.” She led with a pink bakery box and walked over to Melanie. “These are for the girls.”

  Kari and Alyssa rushed inside, hitting the shelf of toys with fast hands. They began pulling out, yanking down, and emptying drawers of organized toys.

  Melanie set down the screwdriver and paused to look in the box. The most fluffy, beautiful cupcakes iced in pink commanded the attention of her salivary glands. She felt her tongue twitch in response to the spoonful of sugar needed to make such a fine creation.

  Goldie snapped closed the box. “We’ll have them a little later. What a charming little room Vivian has. I recently changed the theme in my girls’ playroom. They have a gourmet kitchen built into the side of the room with a working refrigerator, a mini theater stage complete with curtains and a chalk board wall for roll call. You simply must see their sofa. I had the fabric made from a special blend of silk and cotton.”

  The sofa sounded like a place for a whore to have sex, but Melanie kept her mouth shut. “Sounds like a great space for your daughters.”

  Goldie’s hand hit Melanie’s arm. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”

  “You got an invitation?” Melanie asked while clearing her throat. She glanced at Vivian, who was not at all interested in the other girls. The natural reaction for Melanie should have been to go and show Vivian how to play with Kari and Alyssa; teach her how to sit side-by-side with them, pass toys, share, try to point or interact. The entire point today was to observe and give Vivian little guidance as possible.